


Conflicted Loyalties

by Kiradog234



Category: Drarry - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiradog234/pseuds/Kiradog234
Summary: The Golden Trio have returned for their eighth year at Hogwarts in order to make up for the seventh year lost to the war.Old grudges are being reassessed, friendships are becoming tighter than ever. Harry is looking forward to this year, hoping that it will be different from the rest and free of danger. All he wants is a normal year at school.The war has thrown everything off track for Draco. New feelings have arisen within him, feelings he has kept locked away deep inside for years, feelings he'd hoped would go away and has only just begun to let in. His life has been destroyed by the events of the past few years of his life. What will he do in this final year? He never planned to survive the war, or to return to Hogwarts ever again.He is conflicted, torn between following the wishes of the parents who've all but abandoned him, or making his own path and doing as he wants for the first time in his life.Various headcanons will be integrated into this, you have been warned!Credit to JK Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work I’ve worked at on and off over a number of years, and I’ll probably continue to work on it now. I apologise in advance for any irregularities throughout, and I hope you enjoy!

Harry's POV

Harry stepped onto the train and turned right, looking for an empty compartment. Ron and Hermione hadn't arrived yet. Harry had come from Grimmauld Place after collecting his books and leaving earlier than he normally would.

The train was already busy, filled to the brim with excited students eager to begin their year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry looked into each compartment he passed, smiling as memories of all his previous years sitting there flashed through his mind. Memories of buying the entire sweet trolley to share with a lanky, ginger haired boy. Memories of a bushy haired girl looking for a toad and fixing Harry's glasses. Memories of happiness shared with his two best friends.

It all seemed like so long ago now.

Eventually, he came to a somewhat empty compartment. There was one bag under the seat closest to the window on the left, a bag that Harry immediately recognised, yet could not place. He put his suitcase in the luggage rack and sat across from the solitary bag. 

After a while, before the train went into motion, Ron and Hermione walked past, then turned back upon seeing him and came in. "Harry mate! We were lookin' for you!" Ron beamed, a smile etched on his freckled face. Harry stood with a grin, wrapping his friends in a hug. "How are you Harry?" Hermione asked, hair wild as ever. 

"Fine thanks 'Mione. I got here early, so I thought I might as well find us a carriage" Harry grinned, sitting again. He noticed with glee that his friends were clasping each other's hands 'Finally' he thought to himself as they sat beside him. 

"Who's that bag belong to?" Ron asked, gesturing towards the suitcase across from Harry.

"No clue mate, 's been there since I got here" Harry replied. The bag was made from green leather, patterned with what looked like a snake on its surface. Again, Harry felt as if he should know who it belonged to. He had seen it before, it was definitely someone in his years suitcase. 

The trio made light conversation with one another as the train whistled into motion, pulling away from the station like a bird taking off from a branch. The comforting rhythm of the train settled over the three, instantly relaxing them as they spoke. 

Harry only half listened as Ron told him and Hermione about the latest Quidditch matches. The Chudley Cannons had won their last match three to nil, and had another at some point later on in the week. He was really thinking about that stupid green leather suitcase. Who did it belong to? Why was there no one with it? 

He frowned down at it even as he nodded along to whatever Ron was saying. He'd been over to the Burrow a few times over the holiday. Each time had been great, though a little awkward after the breakup with Ginny. 

Ginny. 

He'd always thought of her as a sister. With her as his girlfriend, he just didn't feel right. So, he'd broken it off, much to her disappointment. She had understood - of course she did - and had spoken a couple of times to Harry to prove she didn't hold it against him.

Harry hadn't decided yet if he would stay at the Burrow after this year, although he'd been told he could if he wanted to by Mrs Weasley. The Chosen One had spent the majority of his holiday at Grimmauld Place, with Sirius and Remus, the 'power couple of the century' as Sirius had deemed them.

The two were inseparable now, scarcely seen without each other. Harry had been surprised at first when they'd told him about their relationship, but he supposed it did make a lot of sense. As he thought back to Remus's reaction to finding Sirius hadn't murdered Peter, to discovering he was innocent, the relationship seemed more plausible than ever. Of course, he wasn't really well known for being observant, was he?

"Oi! Harry mate, are you even listenin'?" Ron asked, waving his hand in front of a dazed Harry's face. "What? Eh-yeah, sorry, just tired" he said, blinking a few times to clear his head. A heartbeat later, the chatter resumed between the three, as enthusiastic as ever. Harry shoved all thoughts from his mind, happy to be back with his friends and focusing on not zoning out again. 

Minutes later, a flash of movement outside of the compartment caught Harry's eye. A slice of platinum pale hair and eyes just as devoid of colour. Malfoy. As Harry looked up, he saw the edges of the Slytherin's robes disappear past the door. Seconds later, he returned, flinging the glass entrance open with one slender fingered hand. 

Immediately, Ron and Hermione's chatter stopped. Three pairs of eyes pointed glares at the newcomer in almost perfect synchronisation. 

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Potter, Weasel and Granger, saviours of the wizarding world!" Malfoy sneered, voice dripping with sarcasm. His eyes held an almost playful glint, at least, Harry reckoned, an emotion different from the aggression he was accustomed to. 

"Shove it Malfoy, you're not wanted here" Ron snarled, tensing as the pale man looked at them all. It was obvious he was expecting a fight, nothing nice ever came from Malfoy's presence. 'He did help me in the war though, maybe things will be different now?' Harry thought to himself, biting back a sharp comment. This year, he was looking for a fresh start.

All at once, the fight seemed to evaporate from the blonde and he slumped into the seat closest to the door, furthest away from the Trio. "Whatever Weasel, everywhere else is full now anyway." he spat, kicking the suitcase towards himself and turning his icy gaze to the corridor outside. 

Harry's eyes widened in surprise 'That's it? No scathing comment?' Nothing came, Malfoy sat in silence, robes pulled about himself as if he was freezing. Harry looked his enemy up and down. He was paler than ever, purely skin and bones. His robes were pristine, devoid of creases, their green edges practically shimmering in their cleanliness. His hair was slicked back in its usual gelled way. But. Something had definitely changed with the Slytherin Prince. He looked almost broken.

As if he could feel Harry's gaze upon him Malfoy turned and directed that frozen glare straight into the emerald pools of Harry's eyes. "What're you looking at Potter?" Came the slow, calculative drawl. 

Harry thought for a moment, then replied "Lets put all this behind us Malfoy. I don't want to be at each other throats anymore."

Malfoy's eyebrow rose, his expression flickered from neutral to hurt, to longing and back to its stone cold resting place. "As if Potter. That can't happen." There was a slight hitch in the blonde's voice that made Harry's heart skip a beat as he once again sat back, ignoring the looks of surprise on his best friend's faces. He felt more saddened by that reply than he would have thought possible. 

He glanced back at his enemy, only to see his lip quivering ever so slightly, hand fidgeting with the edge of his robe. It was a nervous habit. How he knew that, Harry did not know. It frightened him slightly that he knew this, but the Chosen One quickly dispersed of the thought and rested his head against the cool glass of the window. The compartment was now so silent that you would hear a pin drop, no conversation had spread between the three since Malfoy's arrival. Harry sighed again, closing his eyes against the glass, savouring in its coolness. 

Hogwarts wasn't too far away. 

~~~~

Hi guys! How's this for a first chapter? Please tell me your thoughts in the comments!


	2. Chapter 2

TRIGGER WARNING: ABUSE  
~~~~~~

Draco's POV

The Slytherin Prince slid into platform 9 and 3/4 wordlessly, unnoticed by anyone. He'd become adept at keeping to the shadows, but that did not mean he was proud of it. His suitcase was clutched tightly in his left hand, knuckles white from fear.

He looked about himself as if he was expecting to be attacked at any moment, as if he was ready to accept this possible attack without protest. Those who knew him would have said he looked...different. He had been careful to ensure his clothes were pristine, immaculate, hair gelled back as usual. A Malfoy must always look his best, after all. 

Inside, behind his cool exterior?

Draco was broken beyond repair, his spirit snapped and obliterated by the last few years of his pathetic excuse for a life. He had no fight left. Those who had known him would have noticed subtle changes in the blonde. But, pretty much e everyone who had known him was dead, or worse, in Azkaban. All except from Pansy and Blaise, both of which had survived through some miracle or another. 

The difference was in the jittering of his hands, the rabbit-in-the-headlights look to his eyes, the paper thin complexion of his skin. Draco had noticed these changes, but he doubted others would. No one had really cared about him since he had failed his Task. That summer hadn't been uplifting either, oh no, why would it have been? It wasn't like he deserved any happiness after what he'd done.

Draco's summer had been far from pleasant, but then again, 'pleasant' was something his life hadn't been in years.

It had all been a nightmare since the war, each day more torturous than the last. After the war, he'd been pulled away by Lucius. A man he now refused to think of as his father. He had looked up to the older man once, a time when he thought everything Lucius did was brilliant, each word he spoke a sheer blessing, like the treasured speech of some beloved deity. That was, until he'd realised that it was all a lot darker than it seemed. 

Draco had come out to his father - no, Lucius - as gay long ago, years ago, and had never had a proper conversation with either him or his mother since. At the time, he'd believed they'd accept him as who he was, even if it did contradict their strict Pureblood beliefs. He'd been so sure that his parents would accept him, that Draco hadn't even been nervous about telling them. He knew that they loved him more than anything, and was almost certain that this new development wouldn't change their minds towards him in the slightest. 

Merlin, how wrong he'd been. 

If he'd known what would happen next, he would never had considered opening his mouth. 

It was the summer before sixth year, when Dumbledore was still alive. The Malfoys had been at dinner, silent as usual in an empty house for the first time in a very long while. Draco had been toying with the idea of telling his parents about his newly discovered sexuality for months. He'd only come to terms with it earlier on in the year. It even excited him slightly. 

The only problem was, he didn't really know how they would take it. Obviously, since he was their son, nothing too bad would happen, right?

Wrong. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

How could he possibly have been so wrong? 

Draco had planned it, knew what he would say and how he would say it. Needless to say, his plan was completely abandoned and thrown out the window along with all his other preparations. Instead, he blurted out over the silence; 

"Father, mother, I have something to tell you. I-I'm gay" 

He'd said it so fast, he'd tripped over the words. Malfoys don't stutter, Malfoys think before they speak, Malfoys plan what they're going to say before they say it and stick to the plan. It felt good to finally get the words out though, words that had toiled inside him like a waiting storm for as long as he could remember. For the first few seconds, he felt feather light. 

Then, Lucius's fork dropped with a thunderous clang, and with it, so did Draco's hope.

The noise reverberated through the dining hall, straight through Draco as the hesitant smile slid from his face. There was silence. A rising tide of fury boiling from where his father sat. His mother had simply frozen, her lip curled slightly in a mixture of surprise and disgust. She had always been gifted at hiding her feelings, more so than Lucius had ever been.

No words were spoken, there was no movement. The younger Malfoy fought to keep his hands from fidgeting as he tried with all of his strength not to run form the room right then. 

"You are what?" 

The words were cool, forcefully calm, hiding the eruption of anger dancing just beneath the surface of Lucius's porcelain skin. The question was rhetorical of course, Draco knew enough not to answer, Lucius had heard him perfectly well. The silence of a few seconds before had been words enough. 

Then, the pain hit. 

Nothing had been said, though he could have sworn he'd seen his father's lips move every so subtly, his wand hand flicking ever so imperceivably under the table. 

"Crucio."

Pain flared through Draco, as if he was being set alight, his skin burning in front of his eyes. Everywhere seared with white hot agony that made his limbs feel leaden, made him drop from the chair, fall to the floor with a thud, the edges of his vision turning black, his entire body convulsing with the pain of the curse, it seemed endless. He lay there for what felt like hours, screaming until his throat felt raw, tears streaming from his eyes. Burning from within, lashed with a thousand whips at once. 

Then, he was unconscious. Pure, blissful, painless nothingness. An escape from the burning that was his world, escape from the family he could no longer face. 'Hopefully' he'd thought to himself 'I'll die here, maybe now my luck will turn.' 

This didn't seem to be the case however, as Draco awoke an unknown time later in the same position, on the floor. Any other time if he had collapsed, his parents would have taken him to his room, he would wake with their concerned faces floating above him. 

Not anymore, not this time, and never again.

He could hear the far off voices of his parents, could see the moonlight drifting across the table, telling him it had been a few hours at the most. It had felt like so much longer. 

He managed to sit up, crying out in a cracked, harsh voice that was not his own as soon as he made that slight movement. His skin felt as if it was crawling, boiling all over with throbbing pain. The Mark on his arm bubbled, almost as if it was enjoying his pain, savouring it. He grimaced as he eventually did sit up, wincing as his joints groaned at the small movement. His head pounded as he stood shakily, stumbling backwards a few steps before shuddering upright. 

Since then, he had not spoken to either of his parents, and they had made no attempt to speak with him. All they had exchanged were a few glares that would have killed their son on the spot had it been possible. 

Now, Draco stepped stealthily onto the train. He threw his suitcase under the seat of the nearest compartment and moved away to get changed into his robes early.

The only reason he, Draco Lucius Malfoy, had even bothered to return was because he had received a specially hand written letter telling him that it would be much appreciated if he came back for a final eighth year in order to make up for the one he'd lost to the war. Really, he hadn't needed much convincing. His home life wasn't exactly great right now, and, he supposed, it would never be the same again. 

With Lucius in Azkaban and his mother refusing to send even a single glance in her son's direction, Draco figured it was better to return to Hogwarts and face the countless insults that would be thrown at him from the other students than to stay at home in solitude and silence. 

Draco brooded over this as he swept back towards his chosen compartment, lost in his thoughts. He walked straight past it at first he was so lost in his thoughts. He backtracked a little as soon as he realised it was behind him and could only just mask his horror as he saw The Golden Trio inside.

'Oh. Oh Shit' 

His thoughts evaporated suddenly as the green eyed boy he'd watched almost obsessively over the past eight years laughed, light glinting over the emerald green pools of his eyes. Such stunning eyes. The ruffled bird's nest that was Potter's hair looked as adorable as ever as he threw his head back in laughter. 

Wait. What? 

Draco blanched suddenly. He'd thought he was over that stupid crush. He could not be gay for Potter, no matter what the evidence told him. Draco did what a Malfoy does best. He swallowed his conflicted feelings and pulled the compartment door open in a wild flurry. He almost lost his nerve as three sets of piercing eyes shot in his direction. 

Almost. Malfoys never back down. 

Instead, he barked some sharp comment and sat down, not even paying attention to whatever the Weasels reply was. He was too focused on keeping his gaze away from Harry's. He didn't want to speak of what happened at the battle. He couldn't conjure a single logical explanation for his actions, the only reason he had done it was because it had felt right. 

As if Potter would understand that.

Draco directed his silver eyed glare out into the corridor, sifting through his thoughts in an attempt to group them into appropriate packages he could actually deal with. Draco could feel eyes on him, just one pair. Harry's eyes. He tensed without really acknowledging it. 

Just the thought of Harry sent his mind into turmoil, turned his thoughts to mush. It was outrageous. No one should be able to have such an effect in him, no one deserved that kind of power. It took every shred of Draco's collective willpower to turn his glare to Potter, to reel in his emotions and face what was before him, stony faced.

"What do you want, Potter?" He tried his best to keep his voice malicious, as much as it pained him to do so. The Slytherin Prince's self control withered as he stared into those twin meadows, oh how easy it would be to lose himself within their depths.

Then came the words, those words he'd longed to hear since first year from the boy he'd adored for as long as he could recall. The Golden Boy wanted to put the past behind them. He wanted a fresh start. 'Potter, don't you know how much I've wanted this?'' Draco yearned to scream this at that stupid sod. He wanted so badly to nod, to agree, to express his intense desire to start afresh.

But he couldn't. 

No matter what, he couldn't subject the blundering idiot to the endless insults they would receive, even a simple friendship could endanger them all. He wouldn't do that to Potter. As well as this, despite everything, his loyalties still lay with the Malfoys. He couldn't disgrace his family like this, he'd done it enough already. Being homosexual was one thing, but becoming affiliated with The Boy Who Lived? That was treason. 

'Keep up the mask. Don't let it slip. Don't let him see beneath it' Draco fought a small internal battle to keep himself expressionless, although he could tell he hadn't been entirely successful as Potter's eyes clouded with concern. "As if Potter. That can't happen." he sneered, internally screaming at himself, hating himself more than ever as stupid, beautiful, loyal Potter's face contorted into an expression of deep hurt and sadness. 

Draco turned away. Wishing right there and then he would die, would just spontaneously combust on the spot. Anything to stop the guilt that now wracked him. He had caused that look of hurt, of sadness. All because of this fucking thing on his arm. His Merlin-awful parents, his pathetic excuse of a family. And him, a pathetic excuse for a Malfoy. 

He sank against the glass of the compartment door, pressing himself as far away from Potter as he possibly could, fighting to keep the tears of despair in his eyes. 

Malfoys don't cry. 

~~~~  
Hi guys! How's this chapter? I'm not quite sure where this story is going yet, but hopefully you're enjoying it so far! Please leave your thoughts in the comments and I'll try to get back to them all.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry's POV

Harry found himself turning to Draco almost periodically as the train shuddered forwards. 

It was as if he couldn't help but look at the Malfoy, the man he had hated for as long as he could remember. It didn't make any sense to Harry whatsoever. Sure, he'd looked at Draco often enough before, but back then he had been looking for suspicious signs.

What was he looking for now? 

Harry noticed that he had subconsciously turned to Draco again, not even registering it as he traced his eyes over the blonde. He was such a mystery. Why couldn't he just get over their shitty past? Couldn't he see that Harry wanted his friendship? 

He thought over the expressions he had momentarily seen in Draco's face. Longing. Hurt. Sadness. Did that mean he'd wanted to say yes? Was he, too, tired of this feud between them? If he was tired of it, why did he not agree to put the past behind them? Harry sighed to himself as he fought to gather his thoughts. Draco had definitely changed since the war, that much was obvious. He was thinner for a start, whip like and fearful. He kept touching his arm - the one with the Mark - almost disgustedly, as if the very thought of it being there made him sick. 

Harry knew he hadn't wanted it, he understood how much Draco had pleaded to be spared from it. The thought made anger rise like fire within himself once more. 

It was his fault Draco had gotten the Mark in the first place. Hell, the whole bloody thing was his fault. A lump rose in his throat. 'Don't break down, not here, not now. Stay strong.' He silently willed himself. There was no way he was saddling Ron and Hermione with his stupid feelings, not after all they'd endured for him. 

Malfoy looked more muscular than before, his face angular and lean like the rest of him. His eyes as star-like as ever. Shining like silver diamonds. 

'What?'

He frowned at himself in the window. What the bloody hell was that thought about? Star like eyes? Silver diamonds? No. Malfoy's eyes were like ash, boring, dark and grey. Harry narrowed his own eyes. It was too early for these thoughts, he'd dwell on them later if he could be bothered. Now, he just wanted to sleep.

He didn't know exactly how long it took for him to slip peacefully into the oblivion of unconsciousness, but once he did, Harry was visited by the nightmares he had come to expect. He really wouldn't have fallen asleep right there, in the middle of the day, with other people present. But, he'd just been so tired..... 

A momentary lapse in concentration was all it took for him to return to the war again. 

~~~~~~

Curses flew over his head, around him from every angle. 

He was terrified, stuck still, almost watching from another perspective as the cries of pain and loss, anger and despair rang through his ears from all over. 

His breathing was ragged, shallow, tearing at his smoke choked lungs. 

Bodies fell around him, protecting the defenceless, wandless Chosen One for all they were worth. Each one fell, each one crumpled.

Ron. Hermione. Neville. Luna. Arthur. Molly. 

They dropped one by one, lifeless, to the ground, leaving him, a pathetic ball of fear, alone on the battlefield, shivering in his hopelessness. He was unable to move, stuck under some spell that rendered him completely immobile. There was nothing he could do. 

They all died, all of them. He was the only one left. 

A swarm of blackness drew nearer to him, chanting words he didn't understand, their faces obscured by large hoods.

Death Eaters, headed by a tall shape with a shaven head, eyes that were more like slits in his skins, pupils that were simply lines of an impenetrable black, the eyes of a snake. 

Voldemort, growing closer and closer to him while Harry was stuck unable to move, unable to run, to react. 

Just as Voldemort stood above him, eyes red and boring straight through Harry's skull. In his hand, he held the elder wand. A slim line of bone that fit The Dark Lord's hand comfortably. 

He grinned, teeth almost razor like, inhuman.

"I will get you, Harry Potter" The words were hissed in Parseltongue, writhing like a snake through the air towards Harry. 

Then, The Dark Lord raised his wand, a screaming green light bursting forth from its tip, flying straight towards Harry, aimed straight at his chest.

~~~~~~

Harry jolted into consciousness, eyes wide with alarm, the cries of the dead ringing in his ears. He realised where he was and sank his head into his hands, feigning rubbing sleep from his eyes to give himself a moment to calm down. 

Ron, Hermione and Draco were staring at him, confusion on their faces. Draco quickly averted his eyes, seemingly finding intense interest in the corridor once more. 

"You alright mate?" Ron asked, worry evident in his narrowed eyes. His expression mirrored Hermione's beside him. 

"Yeah, fine, just fell asleep" Harry stretched, yawning, keeping up the act as well as he could as his heart hammered against his ribs, threatening to break loose. Ron nodded, offering a small smile, before resting his head on Hermione's shoulder again. 

Harry wasn't fine, not in the slightest. 

Panic seized him, but he fought it down, refusing to show it here. Small things like the feeling of the seat behind him, his robes beneath his palms, acted as a means of calming him down. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He wouldn't be falling asleep again, that was for sure. 

He looked up again, seeing Draco glance at him, a blush rising on his pale face. What was his problem? Harry turned back to the window, still breathing slowly and deeply. Not long to go now. 

\------

Eventually, the train stopped, coming to a halt at the near deserted station. Harry caught sight of Hagrid from the window, standing stoic and proud with his lantern held high before him. 

He remembered what it had been like, seeing the huge man for the first time. He smiled as memories flitted across his mind. He was brought back by Ron telling him to "Get a move on" and quickly rose to grab his things. His friends were just exiting the compartment, probably going to get a carriage.

Behind him, there was a thud, then the sound of papers scattering in the floor.

Harry turned with a start, eyes wide in panic. He quickly realised that it was only Malfoy, he'd dropped his suitcase and it had sprung open. 

The dark haired man didn't really think about it, he just started helping the blonde pick up the scattered objects. Again, he saw the rush of crimson in the other man's cheeks, the dilation in his wide mercury eyes. 

Why was he so.... flustered? 

As Harry placed the final piece of parchment back into the leather suitcase, he was surprised to hear Malfoy speak. 

"T-thanks Potter" came the quiet voice, holding only a trace of the usual venom.

"Don't mention it Malfoy" Harry answered, smirking as the other man almost ran from the compartment, case clutched to his side. 

Harry retrieved his luggage and left the train. He walked towards the carriages quickly as the last students took their seats. The Threstrels stood as proudly as ever, snorting and stamping their hooves. Harry realised, with a deep sense of sadness, that many of the students here would now be able to see the creatures. 

So many of them had seen death.

He grimaced, banishing the thoughts from his mind and climbed up into a carriage with Ron and Hermione. Neville sat across from them with his toad. Luna was staring out across the lake from the window, in her own world it appeared. It almost seemed like he was back in first year again, going to the castle for the first time ever. 

Almost. 

\------

They made small talk on the way to the castle, discussing holidays and memories, how it felt to be back after they had all thought they were done with Hogwarts. 

Harry had to admit, it felt great to talk to them all again, to laugh like old times. He found himself greatly enjoying their company and relaxed completely as the carriage trundled onwards towards the towering, overshadowed outline of the castle. 

He listened intently as Neville told a story about how he'd discovered a new species of plant on a nature walk over the summer, grinning as the man explained how he'd only found it after sliding down a hill. The whole carriage burst out laughing at that, adding on their own stories after Neville had finished. 

They took turns, giving brief descriptions of what surprising things had happened to them throughout the long months after the war.

When it came to Harry's turn, he was hesitant on what to say. 'It's not like I can just bring up these stupid nightmares' he thought wryly. Instead, he began a tale of what had been happening at Grimmauld Place. He, Sirius and Remus were working to rid the dank old house of centuries of dark magic. 

A feat much easier said than done. 

Harry laughed as he explained how the house seemed to be fighting back. Cursed objects that had been removed kept reappearing within its countless rooms, no matter how many times they had been discarded and disposed of. Harry dodged around the subject of how he was feeling, after everything that had happened. He stubbornly refused to throw his troubles at his friends. 

"Never better, honestly, I'm just glad it's all over." He answered truthfully. The four nodded, replying with comments like "Same here mate" and "Me too" before launching back into their excited talk. It seemed that, like him, they had put the war behind them, pushing its grasping claws out of their thoughts. 

Or attempted to, in his case. 'I wish I found it that easy, none of them seem to bothered by it, they've all moved on, why can't I?' 

Harry zoned out, the same thought repeating again and again in his mind, accompanied by snapshot images of that dreadful day. 

'Will it ever leave me alone?' 

~~~~~~

Hi! How's this chapter? Please leave comments and votes, it's much appreciated! Thank you everyone who's read this so far, it mean a lot.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco's POV

He ran from the compartment, his face burning with embarrassment, just as it had been for the past half hour. As it had been since Potter had stretched, showing his tanned, toned body previously hidden beneath his robes. 

'Merlin he's so fucking hot'

Draco felt like he'd been kicked back in time, to when he'd first realised he was into guys, when he'd first found the bloody Golden Boy attractive. He wished Potter, with his stupid smirk and tousled hair, his fucking gorgeous meadow eyes and perfect features, just wasn't quite so perfect. 

The Slytherin pulled himself up into one of the last carriages in the procession. He was alone, thank merlin. Draco turned to the door and slammed it shut, something you weren't supposed to do unless the carriage was full. He needed this time alone, to think in the silence. 

Since he was alone, Draco dropped his usual straight posture, the mask he kept firmly attached to his face discarded for later use. He slumped down on one of the seats, lying with his face to the ceiling, eyebrows scrunched together. 

'It just HAD to be fucking Potter'

He groaned, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. He had been over this crush, it hadn't bothered him for almost two months, longer than ever before since it had first popped into existence. He'd been almost certain it had passed, after four long, gruelling years of its non-stop torture. He snorted. Of course not, he wasn't lucky enough for miracles like that to cross his path. Ever since the Rejected Handshake, all that time ago back in first year, Draco had been almost obsessed with the stupid git. The unsuccessful friendship could have been the catalyst for a huge change in his life had it went differently. Maybe he wouldn't have become a Death Eater, maybe he wouldn't have had such faith in the ways of his family for so long. 

Maybe he wouldn't be in this situation now, conflicted between two opposing sides.

The aristocrat glared at the ceiling of the carriage as if he could melt it with his eyes. It all just wasn't fair. He never asked to be born into a family who had sided with the Dark Lord, he never asked to be tortured and beaten into submission, he'd also never asked to find a fucker like Potter attractive.

He thought back to what Potter had said in the train. 

"Let's put all this behind us"

'Merlin Potter, that's all I've wanted since forever'

He'd wanted to scream at the man, punch him in his stupidity, kiss that idiotic face, run his hands through the tousled mop that topped his head. All at the same time. 

But, he couldn't. 

It wasn't fair. No one deserved to be handed the many horrors of the Malfoy bloodline. Draco didn't deserve happiness. He was too broken by the war, too weak for anyone like Potter to love. Besides, Potter wasn't gay. 

"Stupid bloody Potter" he muttered to himself.  
\------

Draco lay there for a time, eyes closed, just mulling over his thoughts and preparing himself for the roaring background of the great hall. He only sat up when the carriage drew to a halt and the click and whine of multiple doors opening met his ears. 

Malfoy stood, brushed the creases from his robes, adjusted his collar and expertly gelled back hair. He flung the door open with all the swagger of his heritage and stepped nimbly down the stairs. Already, his mask had slid up onto his face; a sneer that almost dared those around him to provoke him. 

The castle had been rebuilt since the battle. Any signs of damage were hidden from view, the worst pieces re-constructed. There were scars that detailed where the battle had taken place and as Draco surveyed the few he could see, images flew through his mind. 

Signs of the war lay around him in the faded scorchmarks and uneven surface of the ground. Draco didn't want to think about that day, but it seemed his mind couldn't help but wander. 

He couldn't think about these things just now, they could make him lose his signature Malfoy cool, and that was something he just could not allow. 

He joined the procession and made his way into the Great Hall, finding his usual seat between Blaise and Pansy, facing the other tables. 

"Took your time" smirked Blaise as Draco sat down.

"Oh I'm sorry Blaise, I didn't realise you missed me so!" Draco sneered, rolling his eyes at his friend. 

He'd known Blaise for years, long before their first year at Hogwarts. They were childhood friends, as were he and Pansy. 

'Speaking of Pansy' 

She's been incredibly, uncharacteristically silent since Draco had taken his seat. He glanced,her way to see the woman gazing almost longingly at the Gryffindor table, at Hermione. 

"Merlins sake Pansy! Stop drooling over bloody Granger!" Draco said quietly to her, laughing delightedly as she turned towards him, a panicked expression on her face. Pansy had recently began crushing on Granger, despite the fact that she was taken by the Weasel. She rolled her eyes "Fuck off Draco" she spat, a smile tracing her lips as she turned back towards their own table.

She was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly seemed to regain her composure. "Like you can talk anyway, how long has it been now since a certain Golden Boy has caught your eye?" Pansy grinned evilly at his embarrassment. Crimson crept across his pale cheeks "Oh bugger off Pansy." He scowled. This was not a laughing matter. 

Parkinson chuckled anyway, finding joy in his discomfort. She leaned towards them again "Did you hear who they've got teaching Potions now?" She asked with a grin. Of course Pansy would have the latest gossip. But how much of whatever she had to say would be true?

"Oh yeah Pansy, we've been here for all of five minutes, but sure, we know who the new teachers are." Blaise said sarcastically, his eyes glinting with curiosity despite himself. 

Unlike Draco, Blaise seemed unable to conceal his feelings, at least, not in his eyes anyway. Blaise's eyes were always full of emotion, even when his face was set in stone.

Pansy paid him no heed, carrying on as if he'd never spoken in the first place. "There's rumours. Apparently, she's been to Azkaban!" She positively beamed, ecstatic to have uncovered such a priceless piece of information. 

A teacher? An ex-Azkaban teacher? Surely not. McGonagall wouldn't allow it, would she? Draco felt a flare of panic in his chest. What if he knew them? It was possible that they were a DeathEater if they had been in Azkaban....

"Shove off Pansy, as if she'd be allowed to teach after being in Azkaban!" He scoffed incredulously. Pansy opened her mouth to answer when a sudden hush settled over the hall. 

The Sorting was about to begin.

\------

By the end of the Sorting, Slytherin had gained a few new members. Draco noted with a kind of relieved sadness that there were no longer empty spaces at any of the tables were those who had died in the war had once sat. He decided not to dwell on the subject.

As expected, the chatter rose to a crescendo in the hall as the last students took their seats and looked about excitedly, the first years wondering what magical things could possibly take place next. 

Draco grinned at their ignorance. They never seemed to anticipate the grandeur of the feast.

The Slytherin only half listened as a hush once more settled like a thick blanket over the hall and Professor - No, she was Headmistress now - McGonagall began to speak. He picked out a few key details as she spoke, but most of it was the same as always and directed mostly towards the new first years. Draco listened intently however to the small piece of information she gave to the eighth years. 

"This year, due to the terrible misfortunes of the last which I'm sure you are all quite aware of, we have invited the previous seventh years back for an eighth year. They will be acting as normal students and will not be excused from any of the usual school activities." 

Her eyes flicked almost unnoticeably towards The Golden Trio.

"These eighth years will not be staying in the usual given house dorms in order to prevent the occurrence of overcrowding issues, but rather in a separate area of the castle. Eighth years, I will lead you to this place after the feast." She paused again, probably to allow her words to sink in. Draco's curiosity was now peaked, he began to pay closer attention.

These new dorms would most likely be sorted by gender, rather than by house. There were usually six to eight students per dorm, so the chances of being paired with Potter were decidedly low. 

'Since when did anything ever go in my favour though?' Draco thought venomously.

The Headmistress ended her speech. "And now I won't keep you waiting any longer, thank you!" She said, voice rising slightly in volume at the end. 

All across the hall, gasps of awe and surprise sounded from the first years, mingled with the laughing and cheering of everyone else. Food appeared suddenly on the tables, a banquet unmatched by anything Draco's father could ever have conjured at his exquisite parties. 

Draco glanced up once at the Gryffindor table, locking eyes momentarily with Harry before quickly averting his gaze. He refused to think about that insufferable git just now. He sighed into his plate as he piled it with the many delicacies on the table. 

Malfoys did not get flustered by insolent Gryffindors.

~~~~~~  
I might change this story to 1st person view from now on, I haven't decided yet.   
Please leave votes and comments!


	5. Chapter 5

Ok, I decided to try first person. Please let me know if you prefer third person or if there are any mistakes! 

~~~~~~  
Harry's POV

As we walked into the school, I fought to control myself. The site of the place where so many had fallen at the hands of the Death Eaters and Voldemort filled me with a rising sense of panic. I didn't think it would affect me as much as it did, but I found myself short of breath in my agitation.

Images flashed through my mind, each bringing with them an avalanche of feelings so heavy I couldn't breathe. My eyes widened, everything around me seemed dimmed, tarnished by the war that once again raged around me. I forced my head up, locking into small, minute details on the ground, my suitcase, my hands. Anything to take me mind off of the raging floods coursing through my brain. 

My friends had noticed - of course they had - and had questioned me on it, but of course, I said I'd be fine and began to focus on the intricate designs adorning the path that we walked along, looking anywhere but the scorch marks I could see out of the corner of my eye. I'd never been happier to enter the Great Hall. 

I had found myself paying more attention than ever before during the Headmistresses speech. Usually, I zoned out after the first few minutes, but this time was different due to what was being said. 

I noticed that Headmistress McGonagall skipped around the subject of the war, which I was thankful for. There was no way I wanted to be reminded of that fucking battlefield anymore than I already was, plus the new first years didn't need to know the details. When she had spoken about the new arrangements for eighth years, I was intrigued. 

It seemed odd that they would put us somewhere different, but I supposed it was to stop over-crowding or something. I hadn't really thought on it for too long. 

Now however, as we filed out of the Great Hall, following the Headmistress, it was all that I could think about. I wondered who I would be in a dorm with, how many people, whether I'd know any of them or not. It was exciting and slightly terrifying all at once. 

The Headmistress eventually stopped, in front of a portrait I'd never seen before near the Gryffindor tower. Judging by the looks of confusion from the other students clustered around me, they'd never noticed it either. The portrait showed a storm swept field, lightning danced over the dark trees in its background. In the forefront there was a man with piercing light brown eyes. He wore a creaseless suit and sat up straight, as if he'd been called to attention or something. A muggle pipe sat on his lips, which was strange since he was surely a wizard. He watched us all without a word, one eyebrow raised. His left hand stroked the stubble adorning his chin. He looked as if he was deep in thought. 

The professor spoke the password loudly, obviously ensuring that all of us could hear. 

"Lupus"

Hermione helpfully informed me that it meant 'Wolf' in Latin as the portrait swung open and we entered the room. 

When I finally saw the inside, I couldn't believe the sheer size of the place. The common room was a huge rectangular shape, decorated with a mixture of all four house colours. At its centre sat a pile of assorted bean bags and couches. There were polished mahogany tables around these seats etched with the house symbols. Ok then, so they hadn't forced us to completely abandon our houses. 

The sides were lined with fully stocked bookcases and desks for a more private studying area. I loved it already. It felt cosy, like the Burrow in a way, but more spread out. 

I watched eagerly as everyone spread around the room, checking out the various alcoves around the place. Doors dotted its sides and end at intervals.

"Students, I have the list of who is sharing a dorm here. As the rooms are considerably smaller, only two or three students will be sharing at a time. When you hear your name, please go to your allocated dorm, you will find your luggage inside." McGonagall said, adjusting her glasses on her nose. I now noticed that she was holding a pice of parchment in her right hand.

She began reading out the names a room at a time, indicating what door each student was to go through. The group grew smaller and smaller, until there were only a few of us left. 

Ron had been paired with Dean and Seamus. 

Hermione had been placed with Parvati and Pansy.

I wondered who I would be paired up with, and when McGonagall read out my name, I didn't even look about to realise that there was only one other male still here. 

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy" she indicated a door near the end of the long room. Was it just me, or had she just smirked as she read our names?

'Finally!' I thought. Now, I had a chance to end this stupid rivalry between us. Malfoy would have no choice now, he'd have to speak to me. I started towards our room and entered through the dark wooden door. The door knob was cold in my hand as I turned it. The door opened inwards, releasing the delicious scent of vanilla. The room was decorated plainly with Gryffindor and Slytherin colours, occasionally even mixing them together. I wrinkled my nose at that. Two four poster beds sat to the right hand side, a long, rectangular mirror with a ledge between them. One of the beds, obviously Malfoys, had a green duvet and pillow with silver lining. I snorted. Typical Slytherins, they just had to go over the top with detail. The other bed had a plain red duvet, much better. 

I made my way around the room, entering the small bathroom complete with shower, sink and toilet. I caught sight of my shockingly green eyes and ruffled hair as I turned back out. 

He was standing there, by the door. Malfoy. 

I remembered suddenly that I didn't want to keep being mean to him and tried to hide the scowl that seemed to automatically take over my features. Malfoy looked as if he would rather be thrown off of the Astronomy Tower than stand there. He shot me a withering look. 

"Come on Malfoy, let's end this bloody thing." I said to him. I hoped he realised I wasn't going to let this go. There was no way I was going to keep up this fight between us and, one way or another, he'd have to tolerate me. 

"Fuck up, Scarface" he sneered, shooting me a glare as he went over to his bed to unpack. Whatever had been wrong with him on the train seemed to be long gone now. The look of despair had been replaced by his usual don't-mess-with-me expression that I'd come to associate with with Malfoys. 

"Merlin Malfoy, what's your problem?" I kept my voice level, I didn't want to provoke him. If he wanted a fight, I wasn't going to rise to it. Then again, talking was better than nothing. 

"Have a bloody guess Potter! I have to share a room with the likes of you, why the hell would I be happy about that?" He snorted, eyes flashing dangerously as he threw open his suitcase and began to unpack.

I felt hurt for a second, then remembered who I was speaking to. I turned away from him, there weren't many ways I could respond to that. I didn't have any idea why he refused my friendship, then I remembered how I'd done the same to him back in first year. Surely he wasn't still sour about that? It was what..... seven years ago today? 

Not even a sod like him would hold a grudge for that long, I was almost certain of it. 

I moved to my case and began unpacking too. There was more room in here compared to the usual dorms, but I could understand why there weren't as many people per room here. It was nice to have some silence for once. I glanced up at my new roommate once as I lifted books and clothes from my case. His hands shook slightly as he moved them. I wondered about that as I finished with the case and slid it beneath the bed. Why would his hands be shaking? Was something wrong? 

'Wait a minute. I'm worried about a Malfoy?'

I berated myself and kicked the thought away. No, I wasn't worried about a Malfoy. I was checking on my roommate, who just happened to be a Malfoy, that was completely different. I had the sudden feeling of eyes on me and looked up. 

Malfoy locked his gaze with mine for a heartbeat, his face slowly hardening, then dropped it back to his almost emptied case. I decided not to dwell on that. He had looked so helpless in that one second, so broken, like he had on the train. 

I moved away from my bed and towards the door, leaving him alone.

\-------

The common room was packed, but that was to be expected. Everyone was sitting in a cluster, chattering among themselves. There weren't really any distinct groups that I could pick out, but I noticed Ron and Hermione sitting on the bean bag chairs, talking to a Hufflepuff girl I'd never seen before. 

She had long black hair and electric blue eyes. Her face was angular and she was wearing a dark blue eyeliner. I felt like a recognised her the more I tried to remember, but I couldn't place her name.

I walked over and sat down next to Ron on a red beanbag.

"How'd you like the rooms?" I asked him, smirking.

"Don't even get me started mate! Just my luck to be put with those two bloody lovebirds" he indicated Dean and Seamus, holding hands as they spoke to a Ravenclaw on one of the couches. "Who'd you end up with?" He asked, turning away from the couches.

"Malfoy" I groaned. 

Ron laughed "Should'a expected that, really" he smirked at my glower. "Bloody Malfoy, that's karma for pulling that stunt on the train" he paused. "Why'd you do it anyway? You really want to be friendly with that moron?"

"I'm tired of us being at each others throats all the time" I stated.

"I just can't be bothered with him to be honest. I mean, he's a Malfoy for Merlins sake, it's in their blood to be gits." Ron shot a look at the blonde as he emerged from our room.

"Can't argue with that mate." I chuckled. I turned to Hermione, who'd been locked in a deep conversation with the Hufflepuff. She glanced my way as I turned to her and smiled my way.

"Oh Harry! This is Juniper." She said, grinning at the girl next to her. 

'She looks so familiar' 

"Hi! It's so nice to meet you" She beamed, holding out her hand for me to shake. I took it, grinning at her as she turned back to Hermione once more. I couldn't place where I'd seen her before, but something about her......

"Mate, you still there?" I snapped back to the present at the sound of Rons voice. 

"Uh, sorry, what?" I stuttered, blinking a few times to re-orient myself. 

He launched into conversation about who he thought the new teachers would be. I listened as he spoke and took over half way through with my own theories. 

We must have stayed in the Common Room, chatting with each other and our friends, for a long time. I barely even remember going back to my room I was so tired. 

All I know is, I woke up to the sound of screaming.


End file.
